Category: Georgia

Disclaimer: This “juice bomb” trend is really getting out of control. They taste fucking delicious, i would never say they don’t, but it’s beer people…beer. It’s not even the fault of the brewers themselves, but the juice lovers have it in their head that if beer doesn’t taste like juice, then it sucks or it’s a “malt bomb”. Man up and broaden your horizons.

Having said that, this post is actually about some southern attempts at the NE style IPA, so go figure. The beer scene is quite different this side of the Mason/Dixie line as their isn’t many frequent releases to line up for or having to pay $20 for a four pack of 16oz cans, which I totally look at as a perk. The local breweries I frequent such as River Dog and Southern Barrel do have a rotating wide variety on draft but not much in the cans department so a couple pints and a to go growler it is. The NE style IPA. or the aforementioned juice bombs, are slowly but surely making their way down the coast.

Case in point is Jekyll Brewing of Alpharetta Georgia, with all around solid brews, they have a couple takes on the haze craze (more bitching about that later). Not really advertised as an NE IPA, because frankly it isn’t one, but that’s what i tasted so I’m counting it.

So there.

Hoot’n & Holler’n (can’t get more southern than that) is a DIPA that as smooth as the day is long. The more I read about it, I heard it had more of a malt character, but I got a lot of similar characteristics to the always delicious, and expensive, Trillium and Treehouse. As some of you are reading this, I’m sure you are shouting “blasphemy!” or “did he just compare other beers to Trillium AND Treehouse, how dare he!”, but that’s my story and I’m stickin to it. Even at 94 IBU’s and 8.8% ABV I was mesmerized by the balance of flavors and it really went down, well…

like juice.

(Shit! I told myself I wasn’t going to say that!)

(Maybe they didn’t see it?)

***Who said that??***

Sorry for the interruption folks, they won’t stop talking sometimes. Getting back to the task at hand, the next brew is (and I’m not making this up) called Southern Juice. This being directly inspired by the NE (New England/Northeast) style didn’t really hit me over the head as much with juice, as I was expecting from the name. Still delicious in its own right with a run of the mill 6.3% ABV, the color, haze, and look was there but I was missing something. When something is in the juicy style and then calls itself juice in the name of said beer, i was expecting a little bit more. Maybe if I just tasted without reading the label I would’ve been pleasantly surprised, as I was with H&H, not expecting the taste of my former home (Massholes stand up!).

Whether the juice is loose or the malt bomb is ticking, I love IPA’s for what they are.

With the Beatles reference out of the way, the ninth installment of this wrestling extravaganza was once again a head scratcher. Held in Vegas for the first time, it was all Caesar and Cleopatra, camels, togas and everything in between. The event of the night was Bret Hart, reigning WWF champion, going up against the 505 pound Japan phenom, Yokozuna. Fun fact is that Yokozuna was from Hawaii the whole time, so… fuck me right?

Keeping with the sweetest of water theme is their flagship Pale Ale, 420. I have phases between 420 and the IPA and I just might be back on the Pale bandwagon.

I also had phases between smooth and crunchy peanut butter but that’s beside the point. I can go either way on pale ales but in this case, it’s right up there with the IPA. Weighing in at 5.7 ABV, it has a great hop kick, but with a smoother citrus finish. A green can with a blue top opener thingy, how can you go wrong.

Never expecting a wrestling lesson from a 500+ pounder, so moves were minimal and agility was basically non existent. I’ll give Bret Hart all the credit in the world for carrying (or not carrying) the big monster through this matchup. A missed corner splash lead to a second rope bulldog by the challenger but only a 1 count with an extreme kick out. Using all the brains he can, Hart exposes a turnbuckle, all the while throwing Yokozuna into it. The big man is down and the sharpshooter submission move is in!! Mr. Fuji has a substance in his hand…

It’s salt in the eyes!! Salt in the eyes!!!

Yokuna gets the 1…2…3 and the NEEEEW WWF CHAMPION…YOKOZUNA!!!

In the most shocking (meaning the most unshocking) moment ever, Hulk Hogan comes to the aide of the cheated ex-champion to avenge his loss. Fuji then sets a challenge to the Hulkster to fight Yoko with the title on the line. Spoiler Alert: Hogan gets in and foils the plans of the bad guys and heroingly (totally a word) wins the WWF Championship for the fifth time. The silver lining in this is that I will not utter the name Hogan till WrestleMania 18.

April was once again upon us and WWF, much like Stella, got their groove back. With a crowd of 62,167 at the Hoosier Dome in Indiana, they righted the wrongs of yesteryear with not one, but…

TWO MAIN EVENTS!!!

The WWF Championship was on the line as Ric Flair (I know you just woo’ed in your head) was pitted against the Macho Man. The build for this match was sublime as Flair stated, and had doctored photo proof, of himself and Savage’s wife Elizabeth in compromised positions with a horse. No bullshit, I said a fucking horse.

Told ya.

Segueing from a horse to a fish, we go to one of my favorite southern breweries in Sweetwater out of Athens, GA. The flagship IPA is delicious and no, it’s not juicy. It’s just a great hop forward smooth drinking IPA that goes down fabulously. The 6.3% ABV is a little low for more modern IPA’s but if you have 8 at 6% or 6 at 8% then it all equals out right? Thought so.

Savage, who was retired the year before, was back because in wrestling not much can be taken seriously or literally. Macho came out in all gold, which I’m pretty sure always means that you win the championship. It’s taken me a while to come to this conclusion, but I think I’m on to something. As I’m blabbering on, Savage starts this fight on the outside and is a whirlwind of fisticuffs. As many title matches go, there are ebs and flows of momentum and now Flair is battering the back of Macho, literally from pillar to post. Mr.Perfect is running interference on the outside which just leads to more suplexes and of course plenty of chops from Flair. Savage catches the Nature Boy snoozing on the top rope and BAM, Flair is down & he is in a world of hurt, as seen below…

In just about every Flair match he dawns the crimson mask and this one is no different. Flair is down and seemingly out as Savage goes up for his patented elbow and he… HITS IT!! 1…2…NO!! Perfect makes the save and in a weasel move throws in brass knuckles and wallops the Macho one with them. The three count will not be had here and to try to preserve justice, as well as the voice of reason, is Miss Elizabeth. Some pelvic thrusts and air kisses from Ric to Liz can only boil the blood of his opponent. The writing was on the wall but just when you thought it was safe to air pelvic thrust, Savage rolls up (with a fistful of tights) and get the 1..2..3… AAND NEW WWF CHAMPION, MACHO MAN RANDY SAVAGE!!! This was one of my favorite bouts so far and remains to be to this day.

Well, I’ve nerded out long enough and still have some tasty Sweetwater IPA left, so I’ll give you the abridged version of the other main event that was touted as the potential last match of the Hulkster. Another snoozer of a match against Sid Justice was the true main event that went last on the card, which still bugs me. Hulk basically gets beat down, you think he’s out, but he no sells to kingdom come all while the mouthpiece of Sid causes a disqualification. The real rub of the post match beat down of Hogan, with a little help from Papa Shango, was the return of…THE ULTIMATE WARRIOR!!! HES BACK!! The newly mulleted Warrior cleaned house which lead to a pose off in the middle of the ring with all the adoring fans taking it all in.

So nice, I have to… watch another WrestleMania?? Pretty sure that’s how it goes. Here we go…

Many moons ago, actually let’s just call it December 2015, I went on a quest to find man buns in the wild. I scoured the land, let’s just call it Jacksonville, for the bun attached to the man with great success. I had to document my findings and by that I mean post to Facebook.

(I know I’m using fancy schmancy language, try to keep up)

The time has come to hunt the illusive man bun again but in a different world altogether, Atlanta, Georgia. This is my where my second magical journey will begin as this is a two day trek at the Music Midtown Music Festival.

I know, I know, I still haven’t said why this has to do with beer. It’s pretty simple, I get drunk on $9 brews and feature them in my documentation of said man buns.

I’ve done many things in my life. Many great things. But today is a day that I have to just stop and think about how beautiful this life really is.

I have found something that I have been searching for. My quest has ended and the reward couldn’t be any sweeter.

What’s her name you ask? Oh you thought I was talking about a person? My apologies, I didn’t mean to cause any confusion. I am talking about the best Gose these lips have ever tasted.

Coastal Empire Coco Piña. Isn’t she beautiful?!

There’s something about her pineapple and coconut disposition that just puts me at ease. Her sour attitude never seems to waver but is balanced out by her salty taste that brings me to my knees. I will never find another like her…